


Foiled Holiday Plans

by queerwatson



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:18:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerwatson/pseuds/queerwatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a nasty habit around MI6 of hiding mistletoe. M always used to say it helped keeping the 00 section on their toes. James had a tendency in thinking that really everybody just enjoyed tormenting each other. Most of them, after all, didn’t have families who would do it instead. No, in true Christmas tradition, it was their duty to bother the hell out of each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foiled Holiday Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Still fluffy as hell I don’t know how to write anything else anymore okay geez lay off.

There was a nasty habit around MI6 of hiding mistletoe. M always used to say it helped keeping the 00 section on their toes. James had a tendency in thinking that really everybody just enjoyed tormenting each other. Most of them, after all, didn’t have families who would do it instead. No, in true Christmas tradition, it was their duty to bother the hell out of each other.

Hence the mistletoe. Well, the mistletoe and the fact that the mistletoe never meant James kissing any of his fellow very attractive agents in any sort of proper way. No, it meant kissing M and Tanner on the cheek, and the cleaning lady who was much, much too fond of him cornering him under one of the spots she’d hunted out and kissing him square on the lips far longer than he was comfortable with.

This year, though. This year James had some hope for the mistletoe. 

It was bloody ridiculous, he knew that going in. He knew it as he tucked the mistletoe in the doorway above Q branch, he knew that as he found excuses to keep lingering there. It wasn’t as though he’d turned into a truly soppy bastard, but there was actually someone in the office he wouldn’t mind sharing a bit of Christmas cheer with now, and for whatever reason, Bond couldn’t find him.

At first he thought maybe Q was just coming in late. He did, some days. Work in his pyjamas and all that. Then he thought maybe he’d come in and just gotten sidetracked, fixing something before he got to his proper office, but James couldn’t find him, and also couldn’t find anyone that had seen him.

Instead, he was left darting around just like always, trying to avoid complete embarrassment, and that blasted cleaning lady.

When he got to the office Christmas party that night and Q came wandering in, wearing one of the worst Christmas jumpers James had ever set eyes on, he wasn’t even really that surprised. Christmas just wasn’t his holiday.

He wasn’t even planning to approach the quartermaster, except that his quartermaster approached him instead; standing next to him, not looking at him, Q spoke, voice just as quiet as that day at the museum.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t keep a camera outside of my own office?”

Showing no outward sign of surprise, James lifted one shoulder. “It was worth a shot, wasn’t it?”

“Waste of time, if you ask me. Inefficient, for a 00.”

James exhaled slowly and glanced over. “Is there a reason you showed up at all, other than to keep trying to prove you’re as smart as you say you are?”

“No.” One corner of Q’s mouth twitched up, and he handed James a box, neatly wrapped. It could have just been gear for a mission he hadn’t been assigned yet, but something told him that wasn’t the case.

Inside he found a pen, and a small circular object with some kind of adhesive on the back.

“The pen doesn’t explode, it’s just the detonator. That object does. It seemed more useful.”

In spite of himself, often as was the case around Q, Bond smiled. He pulled a package out of his own suit and handed it over. As Q unwrapped it, he explained. “I got in the habit of blending my own tea. I collect things to use when I travel. That particular batch is one of my favorites. Fairly good for stress.”

Q nodded, and neither of them needed any more elaboration.

They started towards the door in silence, both rather done with MI6 for the day, when suddenly a high-pitched sound came from one corner of the room. It was Eve. Not entirely unexpected.

There was a tipsy sort of giggle (a result of the very spiked eggnog) before she said, “Now that is something I would pay to see.”

Knowing exactly what he’d see, James looked up. Q didn’t bother. He just sighed.

“It _is_ a tradition.”

Shaking his head, Q made eye contact. Bond knew what that meant. Leaning in, he took the opportunity to kiss his quartermaster square on the lips, in the room full of their coworkers, and he nearly forgot they were there, except for the wolfish whistles.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t quite so terrible after all.


End file.
